1. Similes and Metaphors in Poetry

2. Find the similes in the following poems.

3. The Black Snake
By Mary Oliver

4. When the black snake
flashed onto the morning road,
and the truck could not swerve ---
death, that is how it happens.
Now he lies looped and useless
as an old bicycle tire.
I stop the car
and carry him into the bushes.
He is as cool and gleaming
as a braided whip, he is as beautiful and quiet
as a dead brother.
I leave him under the leaves.

5. When the black snake
flashed onto the morning road,
and the truck could not swerve ---
death, that is how it happens.
Now he lies looped and useless
as an old bicycle tire.
I stop the car
and carry him into the bushes.
He is as cool and gleaming
as a braided whip, he is as beautiful and quiet
as a dead brother.
I leave him under the leaves.

6. When the black snake
flashed onto the morning road,
and the truck could not swerve ---
death, that is how it happens.
Now he lies looped and useless
as an old bicycle tire.
I stop the car
and carry him into the bushes.
He is as cool and gleaming
as a braided whip, he is as beautiful and quiet
as a dead brother.
I leave him under the leaves.

7. When the black snake
flashed onto the morning road,
and the truck could not swerve ---
death, that is how it happens.
Now he lies looped and useless
as an old bicycle tire.
I stop the car
and carry him into the bushes.
He is as cool and gleaming
as a braided whip, he is as beautiful and quiet
as a dead brother.
I leave him under the leaves.

8. The Meadow Mouse
By Theodore Roethke

9. In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

10. Now he’s eaten his three kinds of cheese and drunk from his bottle-cap watering-trough---
So much he just lies in one corner,
His tail curled under him, his belly big
As his head; his bat-like ears
Twitching, tilting toward the least sound.
Do I imagine he no longer trembles
When I come close to him?
He seems no longer to tremble.

11. But this morning the shoe-box house on the back porch is empty.
Where has he gone, my meadow mouse,
My thumb of a child that nuzzled in my palm?---
To run under the hawk’s wing,
Under the eye of the great owl watching from the elm-tree,
To live by courtesy of the shrike, the snake, the tom-cat.
I think of the nestling fallen into the deep grass,
The turtle gasping in the dusty rubble of the highway,
The paralytic stunned in the tub, and the water rising, ---
All things innocent, hapless, forsaken.

12. In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

13. In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

14. In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

15. In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

16. In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

17. Now he’s eaten his three kinds of cheese and drunk from his bottle-cap watering-trough---
So much he just lies in one corner,
His tail curled under him, his belly big
As his head; his bat-like ears
Twitching, tilting toward the least sound.
Do I imagine he no longer trembles
When I come close to him?
He seems no longer to tremble.

18. Now he’s eaten his three kinds of cheese and drunk from his bottle-cap watering-trough---
So much he just lies in one corner,
His tail curled under him, his belly big
As his head; his bat-like ears
Twitching, tilting toward the least sound.
Do I imagine he no longer trembles
When I come close to him?
He seems no longer to tremble.

19. Now he’s eaten his three kinds of cheese and drunk from his bottle-cap watering-trough---
So much he just lies in one corner,
His tail curled under him, his belly big
As his head; his bat-like ears
Twitching, tilting toward the least sound.
Do I imagine he no longer trembles
When I come close to him?
He seems no longer to tremble.

20. But this morning the shoe-box house on the back porch is empty.
Where has he gone, my meadow mouse,
My thumb of a child that nuzzled in my palm?---
To run under the hawk’s wing,
Under the eye of the great owl watching from the elm-tree,
To live by courtesy of the shrike, the snake, the tom-cat.
I think of the nestling fallen into the deep grass,
The turtle gasping in the dusty rubble of the highway,
The paralytic stunned in the tub, and the water rising, ---
All things innocent, hapless, forsaken.

21. But this morning the shoe-box house on the back porch is empty.
Where has he gone, my meadow mouse,
My thumb of a child that nuzzled in my palm?---
To run under the hawk’s wing,
Under the eye of the great owl watching from the elm-tree,
To live by courtesy of the shrike, the snake, the tom-cat.
I think of the nestling fallen into the deep grass,
The turtle gasping in the dusty rubble of the highway,
The paralytic stunned in the tub, and the water rising, ---
All things innocent, hapless, forsaken.

22. miss rosie
By Lucille Clifton

23. when I watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels or
in your old man’s shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week’s groceries
I say
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
I stand up
through your destruction
I stand up 

24. when I watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels or
in your old man’s shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week’s groceries
I say
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
I stand up
through your destruction
I stand up 

25. when I watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels or
in your old man’s shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week’s groceries
I say
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
I stand up
through your destruction
I stand up 

26. when I watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels or
in your old man’s shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week’s groceries
I say
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
I stand up
through your destruction
I stand up 

27. Answer the following questions:
Highlight three similies in Mary Oliver’s “The Black Snake.”
Explain what at least one of the similes means.
Highlight at least one simile and one metaphor in Theodore Roethke’s “Meadow Mouse.”
Reread the following lines:
I think of the nestling fallen into the deep grass,
The turtle gasping in the dusty ruble of the highway,
The paralytic stunned in the tub and the water rising
What do the nestling, turtle, and paralytic have in common?
Clifton also uses similes and metaphors in her poem, “miss rosie.” What image of Miss Rosie do they convey?